


Real Pretty Things

by lostnoise



Series: Valentine's Day 2021 [4]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Future, Body Worship, Cock Worship, Future Fic, Lace Panties, Lingerie, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Panties, Post-Canon Fix-It, Surprises, Unofficial boyfriends, they don’t talk about feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 10:09:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29416917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostnoise/pseuds/lostnoise
Summary: The thing is…The thing is, Steve wasn’t even into this before he started hooking up with Billy.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Series: Valentine's Day 2021 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2160465
Comments: 4
Kudos: 105
Collections: Harringrove Heart-On (2021)





	Real Pretty Things

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Catharrington](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catharrington/gifts).



> For my friend Mary who wanted me to fill the “Lingerie” prompt from the Harringrove Heart-On. I hope you like it, Mary!

The thing is…

The thing is, Steve wasn’t even into this before he started hooking up with Billy.

Before Billy, Steve could pass as a normal guy from a small town in Indiana. Steve liked cars and basketball and swimming and girls. He was _straight_ , he’d insist. Before Billy came to Hawkins, Steve barely looked at other boys.

But then Billy did come to Hawkins, and Steve couldn’t keep his eyes off of him.

And sure, at first it was because of Billy’s weird fixation on taking the crown and mantle of King of Hawkins High from him. With everything that was happening in his senior year, though, Steve was more than happy to pass it along. Happy to be rid of the popularity and the scrutiny and the way people clambered for his attention just to raise their own social standing. Steve had too much going on to care about that part.

And sure, Billy was a loose canon. Their fight at the Byers house proved that much, with Steve walking the halls at school scraped and bruised for a solid two months after. Their rivalry in basketball, too, with Billy shoving Steve to the ground and playing guard against Steve every time he had the ball in his possession, hips pressing up to Steve’s ass, arms positioned on either side of Steve’s body—

Steve didn’t even like boys that much before Billy, and now Billy has him in a pair of dark red lacy panties beneath his regular jeans.

Not that Billy knows they’re there.

_Yet._

The first time Billy brought it up, a year after Starcourt and six months into their _thing_ , their fling or routine hookups or whatever, Billy looked like he knew the suggestion was going to spook Steve. And it did. His eyes went wide, and his mouth dropped open, bad he sputtered a few times on false-started sentences that never fully formed.

“I’m not a fucking girl, Hargrove,” he’d finally spat out, venom-laced and angry. “If you want a girl, there’s plenty willing to drop their lacy fucking panties for you all over school.”

“I don’t _want_ a girl, Steve,” Billy had growled back, fingers digging into the meat of Steve’s thigh. “I want you.”

Billy dropped it after that. Just planted the seed in Steve’s brain to form tiny roots and take hold. And it had worked, because Steve would catch himself wondering late at night. He’d gotten into so many pairs of girls’ panties before, hands dipping into jeans, hands skimming up smooth thighs, brushing the lacy edges with his fingertips. He’d never thought about how that would feel on his skin.

He was thinking about it, now.

The second time Billy brought it up, Steve tensed up a little and looked sideways at Billy. There couldn’t be any way for Billy to know he thought about it, right? More than just considering it for Billy’s sake… right?

“Forget it,” Billy had told him, brushing his lips over Steve’s cheek to nibble at the shell of his ear. “Just let me get you off.”

“No, I—” Steve choked out and let his eyes flutter shut. It was easier to confess with his eyes closed. “I think… I think I’d do that. For you.”

“Yeah?” Billy whispered back, voice breathy with excitement, and that was enough for Steve to pry his eyes open and look at the excited, hopeful look on Billy’s face. “You’d do that for me?”

“You’re buying them,” Steve replied and poked Billy in the chest. “Understand?”

“‘Course I understand,” he griped. Billy moved his hand to curl in Steve’s hair and pulled him in close, grinning wildly. “I’ll buy something real pretty for you, pretty boy.”

And, like, the first time Steve wore panties, he felt like an idiot. His dick was too big to fit in the white lacy confines of the front, the head poking out over the waistband. The back dug into the plush of his ass, almost too tight to properly fit. Overall, whichever size Billy had chosen was too small. But when Steve came stumbling out of the bathroom of Billy’s tiny rathole apartment like a baby deer in headlights, his dark eyes wide and waiting to see the smirk on Billy’s face, instead, Billy looked… reverent. Worshipful.

Heated and wanting and not at all like this was some bad prank to humiliate Steve.

“Do a little spin for me?” Billy had asked him, and he sounded hesitant as if _he_ was the one mostly naked with a thin, flimsy swath of fabric only partially covering all of his bits and pieces.

It was after he did so, hearing Billy’s sharp inhale, seeing the way his pupils widened, watching Billy’s fingers digging into his thighs as if he wanted to to reach out and touch, that Steve thought maybe he could like this.

Steve’s collection has grown since that tiny white pair he barely fit into so many months ago.

He never asks where Billy gets them from. Steve doesn’t really care if Billy buys them or steals them, if he goes to the neighboring town and pretends he’s buying them for his girlfriend. Steve opens them in front of Billy and trails his fingers over every single one, rubbing the material through his fingers and thinking about what they’ll feel like against his skin.

Today is Valentine’s Day, and for once, Steve went to the neighboring town to pick up a pair to surprise Billy. 

They’re not official or anything, both of them too scared to put a label on what they have even after two years of fucking around. But they have plans for dinner — picking up a double pepperoni pizza to split from Tony’s totally counts — and a movie back at Billy’s place. Steve chose some B-rated action flick that they can zone out to.

They’re halfway into the movie, the pizza box empty and discarded in the trash bag Billy keeps by the door, when Billy starts kissing at his neck. Steve sighs softly into the dark air, turns his head, and slides his mouth against Billy’s. Their kisses stay gentle, shallow, until Billy shifts forward, his knee nudging between Steve’s, and his tongue slides slick-smooth over the seam of Steve’s lips. Like it’s asking permission to enter.

Steve could never say no to that tongue.

The movie is all but forgotten on the television, light flickering with the action on screen, as Steve wraps his arms around Billy’s shoulders and Billy tips Steve back into the couch. It’s hot, like this. Making out in the dark living room, Billy’s thigh between his, Billy’s hands rubbing down his chest and sliding under the hem of his shirt to touch the warmth of his skin. It makes Steve shiver in anticipation.

He’s seen Billy react to him wearing panties before, after all. He’s seen the way Billy’s eyes slowly scab over him, lingering on the way the lace digs into his skin, molds over his dick and his ass. He’s even surprised Billy like this before with the bright red pair that seems to drive him nuts.

It’s why he chose the dark red he’s wearing tonight, the same color that matches Billy’s date night button-down. The button-down currently hanging off his body since he only buttons the bottom buttons.

Billy gets him out of his sweater and Steve flicks those buttons open only to push his hands over Billy’s chest with a hitching intake of air at the smooth feel of Billy’s muscles under thick, pale scars. Slides that shirt off and too the floor. And then Billy is back on his mouth, stealing his breath right from his chest as Steve arches up to press their chests together. Billy grips his hips tightly, ruts down against him, and Steve moans into the kiss.

Billy’s hands move to the front of his jeans to flip the fly open, zipper gliding down carefully with that tell-tale sound that makes them both hold their breath. Steve swallows, waiting for Billy to part his jeans and see the present that lay beneath.

Steve can tell exactly when Billy notices because Billy goes still over him. His fingers trail the very edge of the waistband, satin and lace, smooth and textured, and hears the way Billy chokes back a whine in his throat. It makes Steve bite his lip. Makes his dick kick in the panties.

“I didn’t buy you these,” Billy says, stating the obvious. His fingers tuck just under the waistband and smooth to the sides of his hips.

Steve shivers.

“No, I bought them,” Steve whispers back. It’s like he’s scared to admit it, scared to let Billy knows that he likes doing this for Billy. That it’s not just Billy anymore, because Steve likes how the panties make him feel. All confident and powerful and sexy, and—

And pretty. A real pretty boy.

“Fuck, Steve,” Billy huffs and nuzzles at Steve’s cheek. “Fuck. Give me a second.”

Steve turns his head to capture Billy’s lips in a kiss that quickly goes from slow to hot-wet-slick, until Billy shifts off of Steve. He’s worried for a moment that Billy’s upset or something that Steve bought a pair. Maybe Billy only liked the panties he bought for Steve, or maybe he thinks they look ridiculous.

But Billy just sinks to his knees on the floor next to the couch. He really reaches up to grab Steve’s jeans and tugs them down and off, throwing them over his shoulder carelessly.

“Fuck, baby, you look so good for me,” Billy whispers, and that look, that worshipful look that Steve’s become addicted to, graces Billy’s face. Steve arches his body again, this time to show off for Billy, and it has the desired effect when Billy’s breathing goes shallow and he bites his lower lip. “Can I get my mouth on you? Please?”

Billy’s only this nice, this polite, asking for permission when Steve’s got a pair of panties on. It makes him grin, pleased as punch, and he nods and reaches down to card his fingers through Billy’s curls. “Yeah, of course, Billy.”

Steve settles back, ready to shift his hips up when Billy goes to pull his panties down, but he gasps when all Billy does is lean forward to press his tongue, hot and wet, right where the head of his dick is trapped beneath the lace and satin, plumping up and tenting the material at an angle. Billy’s tongue traces down the length of Steve’s dick, laves at his balls, before Billy mouths at them with hot breath and a soft moan that vibrates through Steve and makes him tremble.

“Billy,” Steve gasps and drops his mouth open when Billy trails kisses back to the head and closes his mouth over it.

The warmth through the fabric of the panties, the alternating texture of satin and lace, is like nothing Steve’s felt before. Billy’s tongue keeps flicking at the head, spit soaking the fabric until the drag of it pulls a moan from Steve’s lips and he spreads his thighs open wide. Billy’s hands slide palms-down over the sensitive, pale skin of his inner thighs before he trails his fingernails ever so lightly in their wake. It makes Steve whimper, makes him whine, makes him shift restlessly until Billy’s hands press firm against his hips to pin him in place.

Billy pulls off with a dull pop and spits on the head of Steve’s dick. And Steve can’t help the way he moans, nor the way his cock twitches pulses precum beneath dark red fabric. Almost as if he’s able to tell, Billy laps at the head and sucks at the fabric like he can taste it. Like he wants nothing more than to taste it.

“Gonna suck you off through these pretty panties,” Billy mumbles against Steve’s dick. “God. Made me feel so special, Stevie when I saw these. Gonna have you making such a mess.”

It takes him a long moment to process what Billy’s saying because the rumble of his voice all husky and so close to his cock has Steve’s brain short-circuiting and going offline for a moment. Everything feels so good, after all. Distractingly perfect. But when Steve does process, it’s a touch too late to gear himself up for what Billy has planned and so he’s sent scrabbling for purchase at Billy’s back and the couch when Billy draws the head of Steve’s dick into his mouth and suckles through the wet fabric.

Billy’s mouth feels like heaven. There’s actual suction this time, a better seal formed around wet fabric than dry, and Steve’s hips twitch with the need to thrust. Not that he’ll be able to — not with Billy pinning his hips, and not with his dick still covered by the thin layer of his panties.

Steve moans, shakes, reaches down to pet Billy’s hair and Billy’s shoulders and the back of his neck. Everywhere he can manage to touch. Billy looks up at him from his knees through those long lashes of his, head turned to the side, and he pulls back to suck his thumb into his mouth, getting it wet, before his hand inches up the inside of Steve’s thigh.

The higher it goes, the more Steve gets keyed up, waiting to see where Billy’s thumb is going. And all the while, Billy is licking across the length of his dick until the whole front section of the panties around his cock was damp. Then he follows up with sucking kisses, ending at the vein under the head of Steve’s dick, tongue flicking over and over until Steve’s on the edge of coming.

“Billy, Billy,” Steve whines, practically chanting Billy’s name.

He’s so close but the way Billy’s touching him, licking him, sucking him has him too distracted to properly say anything about it. He digs his fingers into Billy’s shoulders, feels the tremble in his thighs as he tries to stave off his orgasm, hopes Billy can read him well enough to know he can’t say it, can’t wrap his head around anything but Billy’s tongue, that tongue that’s asking him to come.

And Steve knows he can’t say no to that tongue.

But then Billy’s thumb delves beneath the leg of his panties, pushes behind Steve’s balls and Welty circles his entrance and Steve jackknifes up, shooting all over the inside of the panties. He’s panting open-mouthed with his eyebrows pulled together in the center, his head spinning with pleasure, and whimpers loudly when Billy starts sucking the cum out through the holes in the lace.

His dick twitches and Steve feels so much, too much, overstimulated with the way Billy’s tongue won’t let up. Keeps lashing his tongue against the head, sucking on it, thumb breaching Steve’s hole.

Steve still hasn’t gone soft.

He gets like this sometimes, can last through two orgasms, back to back, but it doesn’t take long for the second to come. Billy’s free hand moves up to cup his balls through the lace and satin, squeezing so gently that it makes Steve groan and throw his head back against the couch.

“Billy, please,” he pants, hand tugging at Billy’s hair. When he looks down, Billy’s still looking at him, still sucking on the head, licking the cum out of the fabric. “P-please, it’s too much!”

“I know you can come again,” Billy whispers over his dick.

He finally pulls his hands away only to inch the wet fabric down, down, down Steve’s thighs until Steve’s left bare for Billy’s eyes. Steve, splayed out on the couch with one leg down on the floor, hisses when Billy sucks him down, bobbing his head until he dropped all the way down to the base of his dick.

Steve can’t take his eyes off of Billy, and he whimpers again when Billy’s eyes flutter open to look up at him.

It’s that look that pulls the second orgasm from him as Billy sucks and sucks, and Steve barely keeps his eyes open as he spurts down Billy’s throat. He collapses back against the couch, chest heaving as he tries desperately to catch his breath. He’s overwhelmed and his dick _hurts_ as Billy pulls off with a gasp and rubs the back of his hand over his mouth.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Billy grins up at him, dropping a kiss to Steve’s stomach. “Can I put Predator on now?”

Steve groans and flops back, waves nonsensically towards the TV. Billy laughs and shuffles away.

They’ve seen Predator at least a dozen times, but Steve’s not in the right mind to complain when his brains just got sucked out through his dick.

Twice.

Steve startles when Billy comes back with a blanket and a glass of water, surprised when Billy makes him drink the whole glass before he slots in behind Steve on the couch to play big spoon. They don’t usually cuddle outside of bed, not even on the couch, but this… this feels nice. Normal. Like they’re a couple celebrating Valentine’s Day the way normal couples do.

“Billy—”

“Just… shut up, Steve,” Billy tells him gruffly. Presses a kiss to the back of his neck. Steve melts a little. “We can talk about it tomorrow after I fuck you through the mattress.”

Steve giggles and shivers and lets his eyes fall shut as the opening credits to Predator roll.


End file.
